Nightmare
by SnowPrincessEiry
Summary: All Veronica wanted was to explore history, but quickly learned that curiosity has it's price. She now finds herself in the historic time that captured her, but not in a way one of her position would like; she was committed to Briarcliff Mental Institution for bogus reasons. Will she ever escape the asylum's walls, or is there something worse waiting for her?
1. Story Breakdown

**Story Breakdown**

 **DISCLAIMER  
**

-I DO NOT own _American Horror Story: Asylum_ , it's characters, or it's storyline. _American Horror Story: Asylum_ , it's characters, and it's storyline belong to Brad Fulchuk and Ryan Murphy, and FX.  
-I DO NOT own any of the music featured in my fanfictions. The lyrics/music belongs to their respected artists.

 **OWNERSHIP CLAIM**

-I DO own Veronica "Ronnie" Stone, her story, and her concept.  
-I DO own the cover images to my fanfictions; be them edits or drawings. Be respectful to my art and edits, and DO NOT steal them.

 **STORY INFORMATION**

-Ronnie will be in a very odd situation; she is from 2016, only to find herself in 1964. It may be cliche, and unnatural, but I'm hoping at least one person, aside from me, likes it.  
- _ **Bold-italic**_ phrases will indicate Ronnie's thoughts or the thoughts of others while in their point of view. _Italic_ phrases will indicate a sound being made.  Underlined phrases will indicate the title of a movie, TV show, etc. When you see "..." it means that the point-of-view has shifted.  
-All of the music featured in this story will be credited up top in the author's notes. The song representing the story is "Left Behind" from DAGames, a fan-made song for the horror game _Five Nights at Freddy's: Sister Location_.

 **CHARACTER INFORMATION**

 **Name:** Veronica "Ronnie" Stone  
I prefer to be called "Ronnie". Why? Because a, Veronica will attract unwanted attention from a phantom of my past, and b, my tomboyish fashion help unwarranted attention from the opposite gender.  
 **Age:** 25  
 **Hair:** Deep Mahogany; Pixie Cut.  
 **Eyes:** Crystal Blue  
 **Gender:** Female  
 **Family...  
** **1:** Bianca Lupei - Mother, Deceased; Alex Lupei - Father  
Did you know that sometimes memories stay etched into your memory, even if you were an toddler? Well, when I was three years old, I watched my father murder my mother. Why? Because she was getting old. How a beautiful woman at the age of thirty-two be considered old is beyond me. It was a mystery until I was about seven. Every day from my fourth birthday, father would beat me. Why would someone beat a four year old? I'd cry or scream at him to stop his other abuse, the kind of a inappropriate manner. You can bet your asses that my past with him affects me, even to today. When I was eight, we were watching gypsies perform at the fair, and, when father lead me away to do what he wished, I was saved by the ring leader. He grabbed me and whisked me away.  
 **2:** Andre Dalca and Cosmina Dalca - Foster Parents; Eliza Bensley - Sister-Figure  
When Andre and Cosmina took me in, I finally saw what family was. However, because of the years of abuse, every time they would express physical affection, or even touch me, I'd flinch and start screaming. It took me years, and though I still struggle with my PTSD, I am able to deal with physical contact, albeit vaguely. We would be on the run constantly because the clan of gypsies would encounter issues from the authorities, no doubt because of father. When I turned nineteen, I knew it was time to leave. All of their lives had been put in danger time and time again, and it was my fault, regardless of how Andre and Cosmina would debate it. With their combined efforts, I was able to leave to America. It was hard making it there, the "Land of the Free" because I wasn't a legal citizen. I would tell fortunes, something gypsies were accustomed to, and when I wasn't doing that, I would sing or dance in the streets where I didn't need a permit and it was legal. After some time, I was hired at a place called "Cabana Mystica", which specialized in magic paraphernalia and fortune-telling. I gained a very good friend, almost like a sister, named Eliza Bensley, who is a very passionate person about magic and miracles, but is also a lesbian with a passion for equal rights. On my 25th birthday, we both received news that the manager of the store was retiring and left the popular business in our hands. However, as my citizenship was just approved, I couldn't be the owner, so I continued to work there as a simple employee.  
 **Personality:** Maternal/motherly, gentle, kind, slightly OCD-ish, awkward around strangers, anxious around abusive personalities, and a stickler for rules.  
 **Distinguishing Marks or Features:** I have scars on my wrists from my father, when he'd handcuff me to a chair or the bed, for either his sexual gratification, or to punish me. I also have internal scarring from when he'd sexually abuse me; not that they can be seen, they can only be talked about or learned about.  
 **Miscellaneous:** I adore history; yes, some of our world has seen evil pasts, but, let's face it, the evil allows the good to shine. I also love the horror genre; I play video games - via console and computer - and watch movies. Because of these two loves, among my many others - including psychology - I took a chance to go on vacation, exploring asylums with historical tour groups. All the stories and rumors of hauntings were intriguing, but the histories are what captured my attention; yeah, some were sick and twisted, but that's life sucks more often than not.


	2. The Choices we Make

**Author's Notes:**  
-I DO NOT own _American Horror Story: Asylum_ , it's characters, or it's storyline. _American Horror Story: Asylum_ , it's characters, and it's storyline belong to Brad Fulchuk and Ryan Murphy, and FX. I DO NOT own any of the music featured in my fanfictions. The lyrics/music belongs to their respected artists. I DO own Veronica "Ronnie" Stone, her story, and her concept. I DO own the cover images to my fanfictions; be them edits or drawings. Be respectful to my art and edits, and DO NOT steal them.  
- _ **Bold-italic**_ phrases will indicate Ronnie's thoughts or the thoughts of others while in their point of view. _Italic_ phrases will indicate a sound being made.  Underlined phrases will indicate the title of a movie, TV show, etc. When you see "..." it means that the point-of-view has shifted.  
-The song representing the story is "Left Behind" by DAGames, a fan-made song for the horror game _Five Nights at Freddy's: Sister Location_. The song Ronnie sings is "Cups(When I'm Gone)" by Anna Kendrick from the _Pitch Perfect_ soundtrack.  
-Please note that Ronnie is a lot like me. There will be some remarks made on Ronnie's behalf about religion and some hypocrisy, and the reason why they are put there are because of what I have seen time and time again with some people "cherry picking" when it comes to passing judgement judgement. I have no problem with any religion, no matter the religion; people are free to study and practice the religion they desire, so long as people don't shove it down other's throats. Also let's not forget that the season had religious influence, no matter how minimal. That being said, if you are easily offended by people pointing out the hypocrisy of some religious people, I suggest you don't read any further, as that will come up once in a while.

* * *

 **1.) The Choices we Make  
** ***  
All this torture will unwind, I was never all that kind. If you were to rewind then you would find I was left behind. Take your turn to run and hide, I will catch you all the time. This night no longer shines. Your tears divine. You'll now be mine!  
***

 _ **Blah. Blah. Blah.**_ I thought as I rested my chin against my palm. _**Can we hurry this along?**_ I could be quite impatient, but this historic 'specialist', Kim, was taking forever to explain the rules. Every tour had the same rules; I'm not kidding, every FUCKING tour: Remember to bring your shit - erm, belongings. Stay with the group. Don't touch anything. Need I say more? The tour bus came to a stop and the few interested parties got off. _**'Bout fucking time.**_ I thought bitterly with narrowed eyes. I grabbed my messenger bag, and and departed from the bus, putting a five dollar bill in the tip jar. The driver tilted his head in thanks, and I sent a silent reply with a smile. The blonde haired tour guide - who looked at her phone every so often - was maybe my age. _**This bimbo doesn't know shit about this place does she?**_ My eyes wandered over the haunting presence of Briarcliff Mental Institution. I knew nothing about it's history, but I guess that's the upside of the uninformed - and uncaring - tour guide, Kim, being here. What could make this more annoying, you ask? She would giggle when I walked past her. I sighed and rolled my eyes. I knew dressing in male clothes may prove to be problematic, but this was ridiculous. Kim lead us inside. Her head was facing downward as she looked at her phone reading the Wikipedia entry on it's history. _**For fuck's sake.**_ I smacked my forehead. I put my earphones into my ears, and played a song I had grown attached to; Left Behind from DAGames. The Youtube channel had an array of videos to offer it's subscribers from LPs - Let's Plays, AKA walkthroughs with personal narration - to fan-made music, and many things in-between. _Behold the horrors; they lurk beneath the shadows of remorse. You wouldn't know, of course, but I force a new judgment day. On this day, you will repay your respects to all that may lurk in between your mind, and man kind._ I allowed myself to get swallowed by the lyrics, as I had done many times before now. _So have a seat and be afraid; fear's about to commence. The final ritual; one body is all we need for this to be complete. And when the day begins to take form, you won't be leaving those doors, you'll only live with us. Inside the darkness as we tear you up inside._ I paused just after the first verse played, as I saw that I had gotten lost. _**Shit.**_ I pulled out my earbuds and listened intently. Nothing. _**Shit. Shit. Shit.**_ I cursed repeatedly as I weaved around the hallways. I drew a breath of relief when I reached the doors leading outside. _**Yes!**_ I cheered. As I ran towards the door, something pulled me backward with immense force. _**What the fuck?!**_ I looked around but only saw darkness, however I had a feeling I wasn't alone in the shadows. Something sinister was here with me. My eyes widened and yelped in pain as I was thrown through a door. I winced and opened my eyes, only to see that I was in a chair. Before me was a nun. She was a good decade and a half, if not more, older than I. She had fading blonde hair and dark judgmental eyes. And, let's not forget, her robes. "Do you know why you're here, Ms. Stone?" Her tone reflected bitterness. I glanced around the area; the dark room I was thrown into was now lit, albeit dimly.

"Can't say I do..." I answered as I looked around in awe.

"To be blunt, Ms. Stone, you're evil, but in the eyes of society you are mad." My attention fell back on her.

"Excuse me?!" My curiosity faded into anger. "What makes me any less sane than you?" I narrowed my eyes. She returned my glare.

"Because Ms. Stone, you were found outside going on about an unseen being bringing you here." So many questions raced through my mind, but they all lead to the same concept: _**When did Briarcliff reopen?**_ "When I grabbed you and recited bible verses, you pulled away and spoke in a foreign tongue. You are here because society would see you as insane, but I chose to accept you because you're a witch who's evil soul needs cleansing." I gagged at her words, mocking her. Just so you all understand, I have no problem with people who are religious, however when people say things similar to that - IE "you need Jesus" bullshit - I get a bit defensive.

"Tch." I snorted. "Listen, Sister, I assure you, I am not mad nor am I an 'evil witch'." She rolled her eyes.

"How cliche to try and manipulate me, however, maybe your time here will rid you of the evil in you." She waved her hand. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to find a younger nun. She smiled warmly at me. "Sister Mary Eunice will escort you to your cell, so you know it's location, and then to the day area."

"Come on then, Ms. Stone." The much kinder blonde nun said. I sent the other nun a glare before walking out the door. "I hope that your stay helps you." Her gentle voice commented.

"I appreciate that, but I don't see why I'm here." I wrapped my arms around myself. "I truly am sane."

"You just showed up." Her once warm eyes now held a sorrowful expression. "You were saying something brought you here, something unseen, and when you began to speak that language... Well, Frank took you down, and you were retained." A small pout graced her lips. "You looked so frightened. So... Lost."

"I don't doubt that." I voiced my thought. We arrived outside of a vacant cell and she opened the door. "Sister, can I tell you something?" The question seemed to lift her spirits.

"Of course, Ms. Stone." She escorted me to the bed. "What would you like to tell me?"

"I was with a group of people, and lost sight of them. When I tried to find them, something dragged me through the darkness, and the next thing I know, I'm seated in front of the other nun. I don't remember being found by people, or being subdued for that matter."

"I am sorry, Ms. Stone. I do believe you. Unfortunately, however, I have no pull here, so unless society no longer sees you as a threat, you must stay." There was a genuine sense of sorrow in her tone. "But, rest assured, I will do my best to look out for you. Perhaps Dr. Thredson could be of help." I tilted my head. A small smile graced her lips. "He's here for the Bloody Face Murder case, as a psychiatrist, but if you can convince him of your honesty, maybe, just maybe freedom can be yours, but you didn't hear anything from me." She winked, causing me to chuckle.

"Mum's the word." I smiled brightly. _**Finally,**_ I thought. _**Something good to come from this nightmare.**_ Sister Mary Eunice stood and lead me towards the day area. I wasn't surprised to see the other asylum inhabitants lurking about. However, on the old fashioned record player, a horrible mind-numbing melody played. **_No wonder no one is getting better..._** I turned to Sister Mary Eunice who was about to step away. "Hey, Sister Mary Eunice?" She turned and looked at me. "Is there somewhere I can go where I won't deal with that... Sound?" There was a certain sense of despair in my tone and she could hear it.

"Right this way." She lead me away from the god forsaken music, and stopped me outside of a door. "This is Dr. Thredson's office. It should be quiet in here for you. Don't go snooping through the files, though. One must respect confidentiality." I nodded and smiled, which was returned, and the door was closed. It was pretty empty for an office, but I assume this Dr. Thredson was just getting settled. A sigh left my lips. _**Good going, Ronnie. Now we don't have anything to entertain ourselves with.**_ I narrowed my eyes at the dumb choice I had made. A sight left my lips. _**Ah well.**_ I reached over to an empty paper cup and tapped it, listening to the sound. _**This'll do.**_ I began to clap and tap the cup in a rhythmic tune.

"I've got my ticket for the long way 'round; two bottle whiskey for the way, and I sure would like some sweet company, and I'm leaving tomorrow. What'd you say? When I'm gone, when I'm gone; you're gonna miss me when I'm gone. You're gonna miss me by my hair. You're gonna miss me everywhere, oh. You're gonna miss me when I'm gone. When I'm gone, when I'm gone; you're gonna miss me when I'm gone. You're gonna miss me by my walk. You're gonna miss me by my talk, oh. You're gonna miss me when I'm gone." A smile reformed on my lips. I was having more fun than I imagined. "I've got my ticket for the long way 'round; the one with the prettiest of views. It's got mountains, it's got rivers, it's got sights to give you shivers, but it sure would be prettier with you. When I'm gone, when I'm gone; you're gonna miss me when I'm gone. You're gonna miss me by my walk. You're gonna miss me by my talk, oh. You're gonna miss me when I'm gone. When I'm gone, when I'm gone; you're gonna miss me when I'm gone. You're gonna miss me by my hair. You're gonna miss me everywhere, oh. You're sure gonna miss me when I'm gone." My pace slowed as the song was coming to an end. "When I'm gone, when I'm gone; you're gonna miss me when I'm gone. You're gonna miss me by my walk. You're gonna miss me by my talk, oh. You're gonna miss me when I'm gone." I stopped as my smile held strong, and when I placed the cup back down, I heard a clap from behind me. My eyes widened, but I couldn't fight the blush creep across my face. _**How long has that person been there?**_ I turned to look, finding a woman applauding behind me.

"Not bad." She commented. She was a woman in her early to mid thirties, and had shoulder length brown hair and tired brown eyes. Regardless of her very obvious exhaustion, she was still quite pretty. I lowered my head to hide the deepening of my blush.

"Thanks."

"You wanted to get away from that shit music, too?" I nodded shyly. "Thank god I'm not the only one." She sat in the vacant chair and folded her legs. "I'm Lana."

"Ronnie."

"So, what brings you here? What terrible mental illness do you have?" Lana's eyes fell on me, but I simply leaned against the chair I was in and looked towards the dark, dank ceiling.

"Oh, you know, I'm an evil witch." I rolled my eyes, but my casual attitude about her off.

"You're kidding."

"Sadly, no. Apparently someone can't speak a foreign language without people assuming she's possessed or some shit." I spoke sourly. "Gods, some people." I huffed. "What about you, Lana?" My eyes left the ceiling and fell on her. She held onto the cup I had used as my instrument and played with it.

...

I stretched my shoulders. Things were working out nicely. If things went according to plan, Kit Walker would be the one going down for the crimes I had committed, and I could go on about my mission. I reached outside the door to my office and paused before reaching for the knob. _**Someone's inside.**_ I narrowed my eyes to a cold glare as there were two patients sitting inside. "I can't love who I love." A familiar woman's answered. It was Lana Winters' voice. She was a reporter and confined because she was homosexual. Lana held much potential to be 'the one'.

"What do you mean?" Wondered a different female. I raised my eyebrow. Had Lana made a friend here?

"I'm attracted to women." That in and of itself would earn a question of one's sanity.

"So?" The other woman asked. "Love is love." Admittedly this other woman had be curious. "If I wanted to take this the Christian route, yeah, what you do is a sin, but the religion has countless hypocritical followers." I found myself hanging on her every word. "They preach things like: 'judge lest ye be judged' and 'love the sinner, hate the sin' yet there are many who are quick to judge someone. The reasons in which they judge all range, but homosexuality is a biggie." A frustrated sigh left her lips.

"You're telling me that you don't believe I'm mad, Ronnie?" I noted that the woman Lana was conversing with was Ronnie.

"I mean, I heard 'love makes one mad', but I don't think they meant asylum-level nutso." A smirk graced my lips. This Ronnie woman was amusing to say the least. "Look, if I had any say in it, you'd be out of this place this minute."

"Thank you... I needed to hear that." Lana said gently. "Too bad people would only be assured of your insanity with your words." _**Indeed, and her sentence would be a permanent one.**_

"And I'd bring up historic facts, and religious facts if need be." My smirk fell as I was once again curious about her words.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if we went the religious route: if god made Adam and Eve, how would they populate the Earth?" Silence. "Incest. If Adam and Eve were the only inhabitants of Earth, it only makes sense that mother and father slept together, and the created children would need to reproduce, thus incest would have ensued." I just blinked in awe. It did make sense. Then again, I was never really the good church-going Christian boy. "But, historically speaking, a 50 year-old man could claim a 13 year-old girl as a bride, if not younger, and no one would bat an eye, but nowadays, it's statutory rape; the man would be thrown in prison, and possibly die from the inmates who found child predators to be disgusting and distasteful." This woman seemed to be completely unbiased. It was the first time I had heard something so open-minded leave anyone's lips. "I guess I am just in the wrong time period." Ronnie claimed casually. "Anywho, I think I'll see what books they may have to offer in this hellhole." I heard the _screech_ of the chairs. I saw the silhouettes of both women and adjusted myself. The door opened and revealed Lana at the side of a young woman with shoulder-length red hair, with miscellaneous curls. I couldn't see much else in this shitty lighting, to my dismay. "Oh, hey." Ronnie greeted when our eyes met.

"Dr. Thredson." Lana welcomed with a nod of her head, but my eyes remained on the woman I confirmed was Ronnie.

"Veronica," An even more lovelier name than Ronnie. "But I prefer Ronnie." A smile pulled at my lips and held out my hand.

"Oliver Thredson." When her hand brushed mine, I felt my nerves ignite. It felt like pin pricks to each nerve-ending, but not painfully. No, I felt bliss. Her skin was smooth and warm, and her eyes held a kind gaze. I was broken from my euphoric daze when she gave my hand a small shake.

"Well, Dr. Thredson, I hate to cut this meeting short, but I'll go mad without a good book." She joked. Her laugh was simple but echoed inside my head. "Til we meet again." She pulled her hand from mine, sending me a bow of her head before she went on her way.

"She sure is something." Lana spoke from beside me. _**You couldn't be more on point, Lana.**_ "She doesn't belong here, doc." I turned and looked at her. She was smiling solemnly. "A spirit as kind and accepting as hers will only be destroyed in these walls." There was that kindness that drew me in. Lana had a mother-like warmth to her, which lead me to believe she could be my next attempt. "You gotta get her out of here before this place destroys her." I followed her eyes to where Ronnie had been previously. "You just have to."

"I'll try." I guaranteed nothing, as I had my own agenda to attend, but I knew it would make her smile, and it did.

"Thanks." She walked past me and went back to the day area. Lana had her maternal instinct, but Ronnie... I shook my head. _**No.**_ I mentally scolded myself. _**Lana's the one.**_ But somewhere, in the pit of my mind, mused the thought of choosing Ronnie. She wasn't like anyone I had ever encountered; she may be the one to not judge who I was or what I did. She may accept me. A smirk played on my lips as I lit my cigarette. _**Let's see just what you has to offer, Ronnie.**_


End file.
